Of the few physical descriptions offered in Lee Child's source novel One Shot, one fact is clear – the hero of this ongoing avenging angel series is very big (Clive James's phrase "a condom stuffed with walnuts" has been invoked) and very tall. Not so Tom Cruise, who brings many qualities to the title role of Jack Reacher (2012, Paramount, 15), of which both heft and height are notable only by their absence. Replacing physical bulk with bankable box-office power, Cruise ambles through this oddly inert actioner as the eponymous, ghost-like figure, (re)appearing from nowhere after a clearly culpable crackpot is arrested following an apparently random daylight massacre. Teaming up with Rosamund Pike's glamorously attired defence lawyer, whose district attorney father (Richard Jenkins) has sent several prisoners to their deaths, Reacher follows the money to the Zec, a milky-eyed maniac with a very distinctive accent who is far more interesting than anyone else on screen, despite having less screen time than everyone else.

While the rest of the drama remains remarkably unremarkable, the casting of living legend Werner Herzog as Reacher's nemesis is a stroke of genius. Having faced down gunmen, pulled boats over mountains and eaten his own shoe in real life, the Bavarian maestro has no difficulty convincing us that he could have bitten off his own fingers in a Siberian death camp, nor that he should be astonished that others cannot do the same. A shame, then, that those surrounding him are so bland. Despite the now obligatory reinstatement of a couple of trims made for a theatrical 12 certificate (a woman being suffocated, a man being bludgeoned with a rock), this lacks the strength of its exploitation convictions. Having first risen to prominence as the writer of The Usual Suspects, director Christopher McQuarrie here offers no surprises at all, playing everything by the Taken 2 textbook, ensuring that a mainstream MOR sheen covers any potentially sharp edges. Trivia fans will notice that Lee Child has a cameo as the cop who hands Reacher his few possessions, which some have chosen to (over)interpret as the author handing over the baton of control to the star. Extras include a Cruise/McQuarrie commentary and a couple of featurettes, but what you really want is a long look into the movie-making abyss narrated by Herzog's deadpan drawl.

The final feature from Alain Corneau, Love Crime (2010, Arrow, 15) gets a delayed release in the UK in the wake of Brian De Palma's English-language remake Passion, which premiered at the Venice film festival last autumn. A classy if flimsy erotic thriller with knowing nods to Hitchcock and Chabrol (no wonder De Palma came calling), this sprightly romp casts the electrifying Kristin Scott Thomas as manipulative career woman Christine who abuses struggling underling Isabelle (Ludivine Sagnier) both personally and professionally, with predictably explosive consequences.

Boosted by its A-list leads, who seem to be having plenty of disreputable fun, this enjoyably daft psychodrama has classy/trashy style to spare, relying on sheer panache to propel it through several of the more implausible moments. Whether the same will be true of the remake, which stars the equally imposing Noomi Rapace and Rachel McAdams, remains to be seen, although initial reports suggest that Corneau's European flair has not been eclipsed by his American counterpart. Watch this space.

While at the National Film School of Denmark, writer-director Lisa Aschan made a series of "fictional advertisements for spiked tampons" entitled "Fuck the Rapist". From there she graduated to assistant director on The Killing, before becoming a feature film-maker of great promise and potential. Aschan describes She Monkeys (2011, Peccadillo, 15) as being an exploration of "society's contradictions by allowing young women to perform brutal actions, to show these taboos in contrast to the innocent and what seems to be naive". The result is a weirdly atmospheric drama about repressed emotional trauma and rivalry that has something of the cracked mood of Greek film Dogtooth. Mathilda Paradeiser is Emma, the uptight young girl who joins the local "voltige" team whose members are required to perform insanely disciplined feats of equestrian vaulting.

Here she meets Cassandra (Linda Molin) who at first seems ice-cold and controlling but with whom she develops an intense love-hate relationship. Director of photography Linda Wassberg cites westerns as a visual inspiration, but the tone is altogether more chilly and clinical than that comparison suggests, with a strong sense of boundaries being tested and buttons being provocatively pushed. A winner of the prize for best narrative feature at the 2011 Tribeca film festival, this is an arresting first feature from a distinctive film-maker who deserves to reach a wider international audience.